


Dream a Little Dream

by things_that_matter



Series: CMBYN: Life with Ollie [54]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Brothers, Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Dreams and Nightmares, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, M/M, Parenthood, Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:15:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29923629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/things_that_matter/pseuds/things_that_matter
Summary: Ollie won’t stay in bed.
Relationships: Oliver/Elio Perlman
Series: CMBYN: Life with Ollie [54]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2094873
Comments: 27
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story has a second part. It’s the same story but from Ollie’s perspective, and it sheds some light.

Oliver blinked a few times, hoping that his eyes would adjust to the dark, but they didn’t. Needing an alternative plan, he began patting around the bedside table, hoping to locate his phone without knocking anything over. He didn’t want to disturb Elio. His fingers carefully explored the table, feeling their way around the lamp, some books, a pen, perhaps the case to his sunglasses. Finally, they brushed against a thin, flexible cord that he recognized immediately. His phone charger. He followed the cord with his fingers and soon located his phone. When he picked it up, he groaned inwardly at what he saw. Two a.m. He should definitely not be hearing the pitter patter of little feet. He glanced over to find Elio still deeply asleep. He was envious of Elio’s ability to sleep in any situation. He sighed and rose from the bed, sliding on some joggers that were laying over the back of a nearby chair. 

When Ollie heard footsteps coming down the hallway, he considered hiding, but he knew it would only make things worse. Instead, he remained seated in what he secretly considered _Elio’s reading chair_ , trying to look innocent, not an easy feat when he was feeling guilty. 

He knew by the footsteps that it was Oliver. Elio and Oliver had different ways of walking, and it wasn’t difficult to determine who it was coming to check on him. But it was confirmed a moment later when he heard Oliver’s voice, “Ollie, are you okay?”

“Sorry,” he answered. 

A sigh came from the darkest part of the hallway, and then Oliver stepped into the living room, which was illuminated by the moonlight and Ollie’s small flashlight he used for reading. “I didn’t ask you to apologize, Ollie. I asked if you’re okay.” 

Ollie clicked off his flashlight, surprised by how bright the room remained. “Yeah,” he sighed. “I’m okay.” 

Oliver leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “Want to tell me why you’re up then?”

Ollie shrugged. “Not particularly.” 

Oliver walked over then and sat on the sofa, which met the chair in an L-shape, sharing a side table. He gave Ollie a long, careful look, and Ollie felt apprehension fluttering inside him like butterfly wings. 

“If you’re going to get up and patter around the house in the middle of the night, depriving yourself _and me_ of our much-needed sleep, then I want to know why, Ollie.” 

Ollie shrugged, lip poking out in the most adorable pout. “I don’t know though” 

“Well, you’d better figure it out,” Oliver said, standing and reaching out his hand, which Ollie took. He led Ollie back to his room and tucked him in again, and he could see some anxiety in his eyes. He sat on the edge of the bed. “Can you not sleep, Ollie?” he asked. 

Ollie shrugged, looking away.

“Is something bothering you? Are you upset? Are you sick?”

Ollie shook his head, then squeezed his eyes shut. 

“This is the third night in a row that you’ve gotten up in the middle of the night.”

Ollie neither confirmed nor denied this. 

“And it is the third night night in a row that I’ve told you to stay in bed.” 

Silence from Ollie. 

Oliver rubbed his hand across his tired face. “Don’t get out of bed again. Understand?” 

Ollie nodded.. Oliver was considering insisting on a verbal answer, just to make sure they were in agreement but then Ollie, perhaps sensing this, muttered sadly, “Check.” 

The following day was relatively routine, though Oliver could see that Ollie was tired. He’d gotten up in the middle of the night for the past three nights in a row. Ollie was a kid who needed his sleep, and it was catching up with him. So that night at bedtime, Oliver clarified that Ollie was to stay in bed. 

“Ollie, remember what we talked about last night?” Oliver asked when he tucked him in.

“Check!” Ollie said. He was all smiles and seemed to feel perfectly fine, as he did every night when they tucked him in. 

Oliver gave him a lingering stare. “I mean it, Ollie. I want you to stay in bed until morning.” 

“Okay, I promise.”  
Oliver sighed, unsure of why he didn’t believe Ollie. “Do you need to use the bathroom? Get a drink? Eat a snack?” 

Ollie giggled as if these were ridiculous suppositions. 

“Because you’re not getting up again until the sun is up, right?” Oliver emphasized. He was glad Elio wasn’t around to roll his eyes about his rule making, but Elio wasn’t the one getting up with Ollie night after night. 

Ollie promised again and again, so Oliver felt relatively confident a few hours later when he laid his own head down on his pillow that night. As soon as he lay in bed, though, Elio scooted back, pressing into him. They fit together perfectly when they lay like this together, and Oliver laughed softly when Elio wedged his cold, bare foot into the space between Oliver’s bottom leg and the mattress, though Oliver was fairly sure that there hadn’t been a space there before Elio’s foot created one. “God, your feet are freezing,” he whispered into Elio’s ear, and he felt Elio nuzzle into him affectionately. For a moment, Oliver wondered if Elio would initiate more. If he did, that would be more than fine with Oliver. He’d never turn Elio away. But soon enough he felt Elio’s body growing limp and heavy, on the edge of sleep. This was okay with Oliver, too, because he needed sleep. 

And Oliver did fall asleep quickly. He slept the deep, dreamless sleep of the severely sleep deprived until he heard, yet again, little footsteps running down the hallway. This time he wasted no time looking for his phone, but rose out of bed, threw on his joggers, and headed quickly for the door. When his hand reached the doorknob, he paused, held the knob for a minute, recognizing how angry he was. _Don’t overreact,_ he reminded himself. _He’s just a kid,_ he reminded himself. _He’s your kid, and you love him,_ he reminded himself as he finally turned the knob and made his way to the living room. Just as he had been the night before, Ollie was sitting in the chair, reading a book. When Ollie saw him, he cringed. 

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” he began, but Oliver wasn’t looking for an apology. 

“What did I tell you at bedtime?” he said, standing at his full height, arms crossed over his chest. 

“I don’t know,” Ollie whined. 

“Yes, you do know.” 

Ollie crossed his arms, looking for all the world like a seated version of Oliver. His little face was Elio’s, but his facial expression and body language at the moment were Oliver’s. 

Oliver cleared his throat, “Well. Answer me,” he prompted. 

“I don’t remember,” Ollie pouted. 

“Well, I guess I need to help you remember,” Oliver said, holding out his hand as he had the previous nights. He could see Ollie’s reluctance to take it, but not having a choice, he did. 

Oliver led him back to his room and tucked him in again. He saw the clock then, 2:30am. “Ollie, you have to stop doing this, buddy. I am exhausted,” he said as he reached for the Avengers blanket to spread over the top of the little boy. 

“I said I’m sorry though,” Ollie reminded.

Oliver gave him a long, serious look. “I heard you. I heard you last night and the two nights before that, too, Ollie. But do you know what I’m thinking?” 

Ollie shrugged, eyes on the Thor action figure he’d pulled out from under one of the pillows. “I don’t know,” he said so quietly Oliver could hardly hear him.

“I’m starting to think you’re not sorry, Ollie,” Oliver said.

Ollie’s jaw dropped then, eyes squinting, brows lowered.

“It’s hard for me to believe you’re sorry when you keep doing the same thing again and again. The way to show you’re sorry is by changing your behavior, and that’s what you’re failing to do. Understand?” Oliver asked. 

“But…” Ollie began, but Oliver shook his head. 

“But nothing. This has to stop. I have told you for three nights in a row to stay in bed. If you get up again, you’re going to be in trouble, understand?” he asked. He felt slightly guilty at how wide the little boy’s eyes grew, and he suddenly realized he hadn’t had to scold Ollie in a long time. 

Ollie nodded, eyes wide and glistening. 

“Don’t get up again.”

After another round of goodnight hugs and kisses, Oliver returned to his room to sneak into bed without waking Elio. To his surprise though, Elio scooted over to him, curling into him, twining his legs through and around Oliver’s in a way that should be uncomfortable but wasn’t. Oliver kissed the back of his head, hoping to catch a little more sleep himself. 

“Is Ollie okay?” Elio asked. 

“Yeah, more or less,” Oliver said. 

“What’s wrong with him?” 

“He’s been getting up every night. Tonight was the fourth night in a row I’ve had to get up with him.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of their steady breathing, and Oliver felt sleep mercifully overtaking him. 

“Huh, that’s weird though, right?” Elio said next. 

Oliver kissed the back of Elio’s head again. “Go to sleep, Elio. We can talk about it in the morning.” 

“But don’t you think it’s weird? He’s always slept so well and suddenly he’s getting back up?” 

Oliver placed his hand on the creamy fair skin of Elio’s shoulder, applying just a small amount of pressure to the small muscles of his inner shoulder blade, where Elio sometimes carried some tension. When Oliver found the tense area, he kneaded the muscles gently. 

“I think kids just go through stages,” Oliver answered. He thought he’d heard or read that somewhere. Or was that puppies that went through stages? “If he gets up again tomorrow, he’s in trouble.” Oliver yawned then, and when Elio didn’t answer, he realized he’d fallen asleep. Oliver lay there for another hour and dozed off just as the sky was lightening to grey. 

Oliver had another talk with Ollie at breakfast, through which Ollie listened politely, agreed to everything he was told, and promised to do better.

“You’d better, because if it happens tonight, you’re grounded,” Oliver declared.

Elio looked up from his plate suddenly, eyes darting from Oliver to Ollie. Ollie hadn’t been grounded in months. He hadn’t needed to be. He was essentially perfect. Elio felt immediately defensive, but then he remembered that he loved Oliver, too. 

It was Saturday, but it was a busy Saturday. They went grocery shopping, cleaned out the fridge and freezer, cleaned the house, and then worked in the garden. It was a hectic day, but they were together and when they were together, they could make nearly anything fun. 

Finally, it was time for Ollie to go to bed though. Oliver again reminded Ollie that he needed to stay in bed tonight. He again reminded him that he would be grounded if he got up. He again made sure he’d met all of his basic needs before getting into bed and being tucked in. As Oliver was leaving Ollie’s room, Elio was entering. They looked at one another, and Oliver offered a questioning look. “I just want to talk to him a minute. I’ll be right out,” Elio said. After a brief kiss, Oliver left, and Elio went over and threw himself dramatically onto Ollie’s bed, laying beside him. Ollie grinned at him. To Ollie, no one was funnier than Elio. 

“Ollie, I don’t want you to get up tonight, okay?” Elio asked. 

Ollie shrugged. “I probably won’t,” he said. 

“Probably?” Elio asked. Not smiling. 

Ollie gave a thoughtful look. He’d obviously not answered the way Elio had wanted him to. So, as he always did in his effort to please his big brother, he tried again. “I _hopefully_ won’t.” 

Elio sighed. 

“Well, it’s just that I can’t help it,” Ollie explained. 

Elio was on his side now, propping himself up on his elbow. “Why not, Ollie? Why can’t you help it?” 

Ollie shrugged. Then he tried to roll away from Elio, but Elio stopped him. “Tell me. Why can’t you help it?” 

“I have bad dreams,” Ollie whispered. 

Elio laid back down on his side, placing his forehead against Ollie’s. “I hate bad dreams,” he commiserated. 

“Me too,” Ollie sighed. 

“What kind of bad dreams are you having?” Elio asked. 

Ollie shook his head. 

Elio nodded once. “That bad, huh?” 

Ollie nodded, then pulled the blanket up over his head.

Elio covered his head, too, placing his forehead against Ollie’s again. 

“Were they about monsters?” Elio asked. 

Ollie shook his head. 

“Were they about wild animals?” Elio asked. 

Ollie shook his head. Elio thought he was looking more upset instead of less, and he wished Oliver was there. Oliver was good at talking to Ollie when he was upset.

“Did you tell Oliver you’ve been having bad dreams?” Elio asked. 

Ollie shook his head, and he was definitely looking upset. 

“Hmmmm. So Ollie, what have you been telling Oliver about why you’ve been getting up at night?” Elio wanted to know. 

Ollie shrugged, “Nothing.”

Elio reached over and brushed Ollie’s wavy brown hair out of his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell him? I bet he would have tried to help you if he knew.” 

“I just didn’t want to.” 

“Why not, though?” Elio persisted, which earned him a small scowl from Ollie. “We are always telling you to talk to us.” 

Ollie sighed and rolled away from Elio. Elio uncovered both of their heads and then wrapped his arms around Ollie. “You’re not going to talk to me either?” he asked.

Ollie shook his head. “Okay, Ollie. Just remember, when you don’t talk to us, we can’t help you. If you get up tonight, Oliver says you’re grounded. Of course, if you _talked_ to him about what’s bothering you, he’d be more likely to help you and less likely to punish you.”

Elio rubbed Ollie’s back for a few minutes, just hoping he’d open up, but he didn’t. He did fall asleep, though, so Elio went in search of Oliver. 

He wasn’t hard to find. He was sitting outside on the deck. They loved being outside. Elio sat down in the chair beside him, and Olive ran over to greet him. She was an easy puppy, though. He only had to say hello and pet her for a second, and then she darted back into the yard to play. 

Elio slouched down into the chair so that his head could rest on the back of it and gave a long, elaborate sigh. Oliver turned to look at him, smiling at the dramatics. “That bad, huh?” Oliver asked. 

“Eh,” Elio said, shrugging. “It’s not great.” 

“What’s wrong?” Oliver said, reaching out to place his hand over Elio’s, which was resting on the arm of his chair. Elio closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Oliver’s hand on his. Oliver brushed his fingers lightly over the top of that hand he loved so much, and Elio’s breathing deepened. He made no effort to answer, though. Oliver let his fingers flutter across Elio’s skin, moving up from his hand to his wrist. Then he turned Elio’s arm over, exposing the fair, tender skin of his inner arm. Oliver loved this part of Elio. He loved all of Elio and found him almost devastatingly beautiful. And he loved the typical parts, the parts of a man most people who are attracted to men would love. But he almost thought he loved this skin on Elio’s inner arm even more. Because only he knew how soft it was. Only he knew it was so smooth as to feel almost cool to the touch, like marble. It was akin to having a little secret. 

But just when Oliver had forgotten that he’d asked a question, Elio confused him by answering it. “Ollie told me he’s been getting up at night because he’s waking up with bad dreams.” 

Oliver let his fingers glide back down to Elio’s, where they rested and then entwined. “What kind of dreams?” he asked. 

Elio sat up straighter in the chair, glancing around. Oliver knew what he was looking for and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. They didn’t smoke often, but sometimes after Ollie was in bed and they sat on the deck together, they would. After lighting his cigarette for him and waiting for him to take a drag, Oliver prompted him again. “What kind of dreams?” 

Elio smiled an uncharacteristically cynical smile. “That part, he wouldn’t say.” 

Oliver nodded. “Don’t get mad, Elio. It’s just a question…” Elio was already shaking his head mildly, as if trying not to get mad. Oliver ignored it and finished his thought, “Do you think he could be saying that only to avoid a punishment?” 

Elio gave a wry laugh, then took another puff of his cigarette. “Unlikely,” he muttered. 

“Okay. Why is it so unlikely though?” 

Elio leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Because he’s smart enough to know that the best way to avoid punishment is simply to stay in bed. Just like he has done every night for the last 8 months,” Elio explained. 

“Okay, fair enough. Then why hasn’t he mentioned these dreams to me any of the four times I’ve had to get up with him? And I’ve asked him each time if anything is wrong?” Oliver argued, then inhaled his cigarette. 

“Because, I don’t think he wants to talk about them? He didn’t want to tell me either,” Elio explained. 

“Well then, why did he? Why do you think he told you now?” Oliver asked. 

Elio leaned back in the chair, slid down until his head touched the back of the chair again. “Because I think he knows he’s going to have to get up tonight, and he knows he’s going to get in trouble, and he wants me to understand why. He hates to disappoint me.” 

“What did you tell him?” 

“I just told him that if he would talk to you, that you would probably understand. And that when he doesn’t talk to us, we can only assume he’s just misbehaving.” 

Oliver sighed. It wasn’t like Ollie. None of this was like him. He never deliberately disobeyed them. He made mistakes from time to time, but never the same one four or five days in a row. And he talked to them. He wasn’t a secretive kid. All Oliver could do was hope that tonight would be different. _Don’t get up tonight,_ Oliver hoped. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a retelling of the same story, but from Ollie's perspective.

Joey glanced around to make sure no one was looking, especially the teacher. Feeling confident, she pressed the sharpened end of her pencil into her chair until the lead crumbled. Bingo! She then rose to go sharpen her pencil. On the way, she stopped by Ollie’s desk and jostled him. He jerked awake and looked around. She quickly leaned down to whisper, “Ollie, stay awake or you’re going to get in trouble. And if I break my pencil again, I’ll probably get in trouble. Wake up!” 

“Thanks, Joey. I’m awake.” They nodded at each other. 

At recess, Joey found him on the playground right away. “Ollie, are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m okay. Why?” 

She looked at him skeptically, “Because you fell asleep in class like five times. And you were really sleepy yesterday, too!” 

“Want to jump rope?” Ollie offered, hoping to distract her. It was Joey’s favorite recess activity, and he usually wouldn’t jump with her. He could see that he had tempted her.

But she was worried about Ollie more than she wanted to jump. “I’m serious. What’s going on?” 

Ollie looked around. Seeing that no one was nearby, he leaned in and whispered, “Do you ever have bad dreams?” 

Joey considered this. “Sure. Everyone does sometimes.” 

Ollie looked at her, trying to decide. 

“You can trust me, Ollie. What’s wrong?” 

“I’ve been having bad dreams,” he admitted. When she didn’t respond, he added, “Bad, bad ones.”

“What about?” she asked. 

Ollie suddenly felt upset. 

Joey hugged him. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But you should tell Elio. Or Oliver.”

Ollie suddenly felt panicked. “No!! Please don’t tell them!” 

Joey looked confused. “Ollie, I’m not going to tell them. I think _you_ should tell them.” 

“NO!!” Ollie said, while dropping himself down onto the sidewalk and grasping a rock in his little hand. He could feel Joey’s eyes on him as he started scratching his initials onto the sidewalk. O. P. 

“Ollie?” she said his name, but he ignored her. She stood nearby for a while, but she finally walked over to the jump rope area. 

That afternoon, he did his homework without being told, and he ate all his vegetables without asking for more dessert. Maybe, if he was extra good, extra, extra good… maybe he wouldn’t have a bad dream. But no such luck. Even though he tried to be perfect, he still woke from sleep in the middle of the night gasping for breath. He sat up in his bed and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. 

“Elio,” he whispered. “Oliver.” 

He reached for his flashlight and clicked it on. He pointed it around the room and everything seemed okay, except for him. His hands were shaking, and he was cold but sweaty all at once, though he didn’t realize how that was possible. 

“Mommy,” he whispered. “Daddy.” 

Ollie didn’t know what to do. He could wake up Elio or Oliver. They would help. But then he would have to explain the dream to them, and he didn’t want to. Because what if that made the dream come true? He lay back down and closed his eyes. But he knew he couldn’t fall asleep. He was too upset. 

“Olive?” he whispered. Since they’d installed the doggie door, she slept with him less frequently, but he needed her now. So he went to look for her. He had to be very, very quiet. Oliver was an extremely light sleeper. He’d woken up the last three nights, and Ollie knew if he woke him up on a fourth night, he wouldn’t be thrilled about it. In fact, Oliver had made it quite clear that he would be in trouble if he got up again. But he really, really had to. He turned, hanging his legs off the edge of the bed. Slowly and carefully, he let himself slide down until his feet brushed the hardwood. Once standing beside the bed, he looked around. Finding everything as it should be, he began the journey to the kitchen, where Olive often slept. He crept slowly down the hallway. When he reached the door to Elio and Oliver’s room, he stopped. He held his breath. He pressed his ear to their door, hoping to hear something, breathing perhaps. Anything to let him know they were okay. He couldn’t hear anything, so even though he knew better, he reached his small hand up for the doorknob and turned it carefully until it clicked. Then he let the door fall open and was relieved to see Oliver sleeping soundly. He couldn’t see his brother, but he knew he was on the other side of Oliver. If Oliver was okay, Elio was okay. Because Ollie knew Oliver would let nothing bad happen to Elio, ever. 

He backed out into the hallway and pulled the door closed, cringing at the loud click it made. He stood frozen for a moment, but when he heard no voices or movement from the room, he decided it was safe and continued his journey. 

When he stepped into the living room, he saw Olive asleep in Elio’s reading chair. Just the sight of her made him feel a little better. He crept back to his room for his flashlight and then went back and climbed into the chair. He put the puppy on his lap and ran his hand over her silky, speckled fur. “You should sleep with me, Olive. Not out here,” he whispered. “I need you,” he explained. But then he heard footsteps coming toward the living room. He closed his eyes, listening hard, but he knew they were Oliver’s footsteps. He gave his puppy a crabby look. “You are gonna get me in trouble,” he muttered. Ollie looked around, considering hiding, but he knew better. 

And soon enough, there was Oliver, wanting to know why Ollie was out of bed. But Ollie didn’t have a good reason for being out of bed. He couldn’t tell Oliver he’d gotten up because he missed his puppy. Oliver would not consider that a good reason to be up. And he most definitely could not tell Oliver about his nightmare. Because then it might really happen. Or, even if it didn’t, it might upset Oliver or hurt his feelings. What if Oliver thought that Ollie actually wanted to have that dream and did it on purpose? No way, he could never tell that.

So he sat quietly while Oliver lectured him again. He nodded and agreed and promised. He did everything he could think of to keep Oliver from being angry. And soon enough, Oliver was putting him back in bed and tucking him in. Ollie wanted to beg Oliver to stay with him, but he knew he couldn’t. 

By the following morning, Ollie was very upset, though he tried not to show it. Oliver had made a long list of chores for Ollie to do that day, even though it was Saturday. At first Ollie thought Oliver was being mean to him, but then he saw Elio got a list, too, and Oliver even made one for himself. Even though his list was long, it was filled with fast and easy chores, so he went to see if he could help Oliver. He wanted to be near him, but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because of the dreams. He found Oliver weeding the garden.

“Can I help you?” Ollie asked. 

“You need to work on your own chores first, Ollie,” Oliver replied without looking up. 

“I already did them,” Ollie explained. 

Oliver looked up then, but he didn’t look glad. This confused Ollie a lot, because he thought Oliver would be delighted about this news. 

“You didn’t already do them, Ollie.”

Ollie just stood there. He didn’t understand grown-ups when they started acting like this. It really put a kid in a tight spot because if he said he did them, then Oliver might say he was arguing with him. But if he said he didn’t do them, then that was a lie, AND Oliver would think he lied about being finished. So that was out. Unsure of what to say, he just stood there. He wished he had offered to help Elio instead. 

“Ollie, you couldn’t have finished that entire list in less than an hour. If you did, then you didn’t do a good job,” Oliver clarified. _Ahhh, there was the angle_ , Ollie thought. 

“Will you check them for me?” Ollie asked. 

Oliver sighed. “I’m busy, Ollie,” he complained. 

“But if you check them and I pass, then I can help you and that will save time,” Ollie knew this was correct because of math. 

Oliver’s jaw grew tense. He looked very upset, at least to Ollie. But he stood and walked toward the house, where he slipped off his yard shoes before stepping inside. “Give me your list,” he said. Ollie didn’t like the way his voice sounded. 

“Are you mad at me?” he asked. 

“No,” Oliver said, walking toward the first thing on the list, which was _‘clean room.’_

Oliver walked over, knelt beside Ollie’s bed, and leaned down to look underneath. Ollie’s tummy did a flip. Oliver then sat up on his knees and looked at Ollie, saying nothing. 

“I didn’t know you meant under the bed, too,” Ollie said. 

Oliver stood and walked toward the bedroom door. When he walked by Ollie, he didn’t put his hand on Ollie’s head like he usually did, and this made Ollie begin to cry. 

Hearing this, Oliver turned back. “What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“You’re mad at me,” Ollie wailed. 

Oliver shook his head. “No, I’m not. I told you I’m not,” he said. 

“But...you… are… though…” Ollie cried. 

“I’m not,” Oliver said again. 

“But you didn’t do _this,”_ Ollie sobbed, placing his own hand on his head. 

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ollie, your reaction right now is out of proportion to the situation.” 

“You just used THREE words with SHUN and I don’t even know ANY of them,” Ollie was crying so hard he was shuddering. 

Elio suddenly came running, “Is he okay?” he asked Oliver, who was standing just inside the bedroom, looking like he’d just seen an alien or a stray kangaroo. 

“I don’t know,” Oliver said slowly. 

Elio looked at Ollie then, “Are you okay?” 

Ollie shook his head. “Oliver’s… mad… at… me,” he cried. 

Elio looked at Oliver, who shrugged. “I told him I’m not.” 

“You do look a little angry,” Elio said mildly. 

“I’m just exhausted. I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in four nights. It makes me grouchy when I don’t get enough sleep.” 

Elio had picked Ollie up, which he didn’t do as often as Oliver did, just because of their relative sizes. He walked over and sat on a beanbag chair with Ollie in his lap. Ollie was calming down, to everyone's relief. Looking at Oliver, Elio said, “That’s probably what’s wrong with him, too. He hasn’t slept well either.” 

Eventually it was decided among the three of them that they would work on the rest of the chores together. Elio was nearly finished with his, Oliver had given himself too many, and Ollie needed some help with his room, so this worked out much better. In fact, the rest of the day went pretty well… until bedtime. 

Ollie did not argue about going to bed. He almost never did. Tonight he was especially tired, so he was more than willing to go to bed. Oliver gave him another long lecture, which Ollie had been expecting. Ollie agreed, promised, apologized, and did everything else he could think of to do. Oliver didn’t seem as mad as he had earlier in the day, even though he was technically being mean as far as Ollie was concerned. What did surprise Ollie, though, was that Elio came in after Oliver. Usually if they were both wanting to tuck him in, they just came in together. Not one at a time. Ollie could see by the look on Elio’s face that he wanted to lecture him, too. 

But Elio didn’t lecture him. Elio just wanted to talk to him. Elio was easy to talk to, and before he knew it, he was accidentally telling Elio about the dreams. He did not tell him what the dreams were, though. 

Ollie knew that no matter what, he could absolutely not get up that night. Oliver said if he did, he was grounded, but that’s really not why Ollie didn’t want to get up. Ollie didn’t want to get up because he didn’t want to upset Oliver. Or Elio. He hated for anyone to be upset with him, and Oliver had been upset with him for the last couple of days. So he lay in bed, still and quiet, and tried to think of pleasant things. That’s what Joey told him to do. She suggested rainbows and unicorns, but he didn’t find that particularly relaxing. Then he turned his mind to karate and Supernatural. He thought about his Avengers blanket and his friend Joey. He thought about his babysitter, Kate, and math. He thought about Marzia and Mafalda and Anchise. He thought about his mom and dad. But he didn’t think about Elio and Oliver. Anything but that. 

Still, he woke up with a gasp. He reached up and touched his face to find it wet with tears. He tried to take some deep breaths, but they were shaky and shallow, as if it were allergy season. He wanted Elio. Or Oliver. Or both. But he couldn’t turn to them. He couldn’t let them know about his horrible dream. And he couldn’t get up. He couldn’t wake up Oliver. He lay back down, hoping he could go back to sleep. But the second he closed his eyes, he could see it. His parents' car. In the ditch. He hadn’t actually seen the car in the ditch, but he’d seen the car and the damage. Or maybe he’d imagined it. The more time passed, the more cloudy his memories were, but the more crystal clear the images became. The car. The damage. The blood. But had he seen blood? He didn’t think so. So why was it so clear in his dream? And in the wreckage, instead of his parents, he saw his brother and Oliver, and what he saw was unspeakable. He could never tell Elio or Oliver what he saw in his dream. And what kind of horrible person was he to even dream such a thing. That his mind could even conjure up something like that. That was the worst part. He sniffled. Feeling a sob climbing up his throat, he turned his face into his pillow and sobbed where hopefully no one would hear him. But then, all at once, someone was sitting on his bed. He tried to fight them, but he couldn’t. They picked him up and held him close, rocked him side to side a bit. It was Oliver. And he wasn’t mad. He just held Ollie for a long, long time, until he stopped crying. 

Finally, Ollie said, “I’m sorry I woke you up. I was trying not to.” 

Oliver shook his head. “You didn’t wake me. I couldn’t sleep.” 

“Why not?” 

Oliver pressed his lips lightly against Ollie’s temple. “I was worried about you,” Oliver explained. “Elio told me you’ve been having bad dreams.” 

Ollie shook his head.

“You don’t have to tell me about the dream, but I wish you would have told me you were having bad dreams. I could have helped you,” Oliver said. 

“How could you help if you don’t know what the dream is?” Ollie asked. 

“Same way I did tonight,” Oliver said. “We tell you all the time, you just have to talk to us. If you would have told me the first night, I wouldn’t have ever gotten upset with you.” 

Ollie was leaning against Oliver’s chest, and he felt his eyes closing. “The dream is about you, though. And Elio. And the car that night. And…” he didn’t want to tell the dream, but as soon as he did, he felt better. 

Oliver patted his back comfortingly. “It’s okay, Ollie. We are both here and we are just fine.” 

Ollie nodded without opening his eyes. 

“You think you can sleep?” Oliver asked. 

“Maybe,” Ollie answered, but he sounded uncertain, and there were tears beading around his closed lashes. 

“Want me to stay in here, or do you want to come with me?” Oliver asked. 

Elio’s voice answered from the doorway, “Bring him with you. His bed is too small for all three of us.” 

Ollie opened his sleepy eyes without lifting his head from Oliver’s chest. When they reached the other room, they were all tangled together and sleeping deeply in less than five minutes. As for Ollie, it wasn’t his last nightmare. But it was the last night he ever had _that_ nightmare. He realized Joey was right, he just needed to talk to Elio and Oliver. 

  
  



End file.
